Go, Worship at Immanuel’s Feet

Go

wor­ship at Im­ma­nu­el’s feet

See in His face what won­ders meet!

Earth is too nar­row to ex­press

His worth

His glo­ry

or His grace.

The whole cre­ation can af­ford

But some faint sha­dows of my Lord;

Nature

to make His beau­ties known

Must min­gle colors not her own.

Is He com­pared to wine or bread?

Dear Lord! our souls would thus be fed:

That flesh

that dy­ing blood of Thine

Is bread of life

is heav’n­ly wine.

Is He a tree? The world re­ceives

Salvation from His heal­ing leaves:

That right­eous branch

that fruit­ful bough

Is Da­vid’s root and off­spring

too.

Is He a rose? Not Shar­on yields

Such frag­ran­cy in all her fields:

Or if the li­ly He as­sume

The val­leys bless the rich per­fume.

Is He a vine? His heav’n­ly root

Supplies the boughs with life and fruit:

O let a last­ing un­ion join

My soul the branch to Christ the vine!

Is He a head? Each mem­ber lives

And owns the vi­tal pow­ers He gives;

The saints be­low and saints above

Joined by His Spir­it and His love.

Is He a fount­ain? There I bathe

And heal the plague of sin and death:

These wa­ters all my soul re­new

And cleanse my spot­ted gar­ments

too.

Is He a fire? He’ll purge my dross;

But the true gold sus­tains no loss:

Like a re­fin­er shall He sit

And tread the re­fuse with His feet.

Is He a rock? How firm He proves!

The Rock of Ag­es nev­er moves;

Yet the sweet streams that from Him flow

Attend us all the de­sert through.

Is He a way? He leads to God

The path is drawn in lines of blood;

There would I walk with hope and zeal

Till I ar­rive at Sion’s hill.

Is He a door? I’ll en­ter in:

Behold the pas­tures large and green;

A para­dise di­vine­ly fair

None but the sheep have free­dom there.

Is He de­signed the cor­ner-stone

For men to build their Heav’n up­on?

I’ll make Him my foun­da­tion

too

Nor fear the plots of hell be­low.

Is He a tem­ple? I ad­ore

Th’indwell­ing ma­jes­ty and pow­er;

And still to His most ho­ly place

Whene’er I pray

I turn my face.

Is He a star? He breaks the night

Piercing the shades with dawn­ing light;

I know His glo­ries from afar

I know the bright

the morn­ing star.

Is He a sun? His beams are grace

His course is joy and right­eous­ness;

Nations re­joice when He ap­pears

To chase their clouds

and dry their tears.

O let me climb those high­er skies

Where storms and dark­ness nev­er rise!

There He dis­plays His pow­ers abroad

And shines and reigns th’in­car­nate God.

Nor earth

nor seas

nor sun

nor stars

Nor Heav’n His full re­sem­blance bears;

His beau­ties we can nev­er trace

Till we be­hold Him face to face.